Not for my judgement or condemnation
by Katherine NotGreat
Summary: Recently I've been so impertinent as to make a sort of prequel to our dear Hereswith's celebrate "All in splinters". A prologue in which I suppose why all those dreams came about. I'm Russian and a mother of 2 small kids, so exuse me for the lack of styl


"…Not for my judgement or condemnation…"

"…**Not for my judgement or condemnation…"**

_by Kathatine NotGreat_

_A\N: I do not owe anything. Even my children belong to Our Lord, not to us._

It was rather a weird day, after all.

To an outsider, there was nothing special; really nothing worth worrying about, but in the interior of her heart the usual neat order unexpectedly gave way to anxiety and alarm.

Moreover, it seemed to feel like a mingled, deeply rooted sense of _guilt…_

Something you feel after treading upon some harmless creature, an insect or a small animal.

There had been days like this before, she could now remember. Perhaps it was even some mysterious annual tradition. Only in her younger years she never stopped to concentrate upon the feeling. Upon these uncomprehensible pangs of remorse…

You know what children are – it's a hard job for them to concentrate on anything for a long time, lest of all on an unpleasant and vague emotion.

But Wendy Darling was of age now, and the realm of childhood became to her nothing but a sweet memory left behind.

Of course she was not so self-assured or conceited as to think herself impeccable; a model of Perfection like Mary Poppins from a celebrate story. But neither she could see in her soul any great sin that could add such weight to her heart.

But there _was _something wrong, and she was aware of it.

Still pondering on the subject, she made her way across the house and found herself in her brother's study. Books were everywhere – on and under the desk, on the bed, on the chairs and even on the window-sill. However, John, who was supposed to be pegging away on his papers for college graduate exams, was nowhere to be found.

"Is this what he calls 'studying hard"?" Wendy chuckled.

She smiled as she was contemplating those piles of books. In her younger days, you see, Wendy found a sure way to solve her small problems (though they didn't seem small to her at the time) by opening a book at a venture. Funny, but she believed it did work! Of course it was a trick of long ago, but what if….?

_Why not try again?_

She didn't recognize either author (an unpronounceable foreign name) or the title. But still opened briskly the covers by an assured gesture.

What she read seemed to her like a flash of lightning:

_**Can a Man judge his Fellow Creatures?**_

_What on Earth could this possibly mean?!_

_**Remember particularly that you cannot be a judge of anyone. For no one can judge a criminal until he recognizes that he is just such a criminal as the man standing before him, and that he perhaps is more than all men to blame for that crime. When he understands that, he will be able to be a judge. Though that sounds absurd, it is true. If I had been righteous myself, perhaps there would have been no criminal standing before me. If you can take upon yourself the crime of the criminal your heart is judging, take it at once, suffer for him yourself, and let him go without reproach. And even if the law itself makes you his judge, act in the same spirit so far as possible, for he will go away and condemn himself more bitterly than you have done. If, after your kiss, he goes away untouched, mocking at you, do not let that be a stumbling-block to you. It shows his time has not yet come, but it will come in due course. And if it come not, no matter; if not he, then another in his place will understand and suffer, and judge and condemn himself, and the truth will be fulfilled. Believe that, believe it without doubt; for in that lies all the hope and faith of the saint.**_

Why did Wendy's heart keep telling her that the unknown author had a right to condemn her?

Her, of all people, who was considered by her family and friends to be so kind, so generous, so thoughtful of others?

Had she ever in her life judged or condemned a single creature?

When and where such a impossible and horrible thing could occur?

… And suddenly Wendy Darling remained breathless for an instant. As if a Gorgona Medusa was to be seen behind the window-sill.

_Peter.. Neverland.. The Jolly Roger.. Captain H  
_

Suddenly in her mind she heard her own voice. It was younger and more sonorous, but it did belong to her, nevertheless:

_**Old. Alone. Done for.**_

As if Doomsday was at hand.

She condemned a man who had condemned himself already. Had given himself up as a hopeless case.

Yes, children are sometimes cruel, both to themselves and to their own parents.

But not so much as to decide questions of life and death. Of salvation and ruin.

All those thoughts were beyond Wendy's endurance.

She ran out of John's room, ran to her own quarters and collapsed by the bed.

At last, she had it out, and it hurt her soul.

_**If the evil-doing of men moves you to indignation and overwhelming distress, even to a desire for vengeance on the evil-doers, shun above all things that feeling. Go at once and seek suffering for yourself, as though you were yourself guilty of that wrong. Accept that suffering and bear it and your heart will find comfort, and you will understand that you too are guilty, for you might have been a light to the evil-doers, even as the one man sinless, and you were not a light to them. If you had been a light, you would have lightened the path for others too, and the evil-doer might perhaps have been saved by your light from his sin. And even though your light was shining, yet you see men were not saved by it, hold firm and doubt not the power of the heavenly light. Believe that if they were not saved, they will be saved hereafter. And if they are not saved hereafter, then their sons will be saved, for your light will not die even when you are dead. The righteous man departs, but his light remains…**_

And what could she possibly do now, if the light of her soul turned out to be darkness? How things of long ago could possibly be changed?

Wendy opened her eyes. The starry sky was above her head.

_Father Almighty, _she cried out, _You, Who created the whole world from chaos, You, Who are the source of everyone's life. You, Who resurrected Lazarus who had been dead for 4 days in his grave; for Whom a thousand years are but a day, and a day like a thousand years! Now I believe and confess that nothing is impossible for Your mercy! Please, if such be Your will, help us to rectify our deadly errors! Please tell us it's never too late to mend!…. _

She wasn't aware for how long she had been kneeling down near the window. It didn't matter, anyway. Time had stopped for a moment.

Suddenly Wendy felt as if a big stone fell down from her heart.

And then a quiet joy came all over her.

Somehow, she knew her prayer had been heard…


End file.
